Knowledge is power and Ignorance is bliss.
Knowing is, after all, half the battle. The other half is recognizing the freedom in not knowing. Perhaps we'd all be much better off with a clinical understanding of every little thing around us. Perhaps a good mystery is just as beneficial to our well being.
Scrutinize. Debate. Look behind the curtain if you will. Just remember that the curiosity and wonder that drove you to pull that curtain back in the first place is a potent commodity, which is likely more fascinating than whatever is revealed.
Those chirping birds and buzzing insects...that Sunday morning chorus. What was all the fuss about? Like an Italian opera, I'm not really sure I care what they're singing about. It can't possibly be more interesting than what I imagine they're going on about. The clucking chickens are likely pushing large eggs out of tiny holes...nothing overly romantic or mysterious about that. Nothing in my imagination to make it a fascinating process either.
Moving on.
Today's Jazz Hands were imagined (not really, I just thought that to be an appropriate thing to write).
Day one-hundred and seventy-five complete.
Knowing is, after all, half the battle. The other half is recognizing the freedom in not knowing. Perhaps we'd all be much better off with a clinical understanding of every little thing around us. Perhaps a good mystery is just as beneficial to our well being.
Scrutinize. Debate. Look behind the curtain if you will. Just remember that the curiosity and wonder that drove you to pull that curtain back in the first place is a potent commodity, which is likely more fascinating than whatever is revealed.
Those chirping birds and buzzing insects...that Sunday morning chorus. What was all the fuss about? Like an Italian opera, I'm not really sure I care what they're singing about. It can't possibly be more interesting than what I imagine they're going on about. The clucking chickens are likely pushing large eggs out of tiny holes...nothing overly romantic or mysterious about that. Nothing in my imagination to make it a fascinating process either.
Moving on.
Today's Jazz Hands were imagined (not really, I just thought that to be an appropriate thing to write).
Day one-hundred and seventy-five complete.
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